


The Golden Touch

by freshiewrites



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Angst, Angst to Hurt/Comfort to Fluff, Angst with a Happy Ending, Blood, Blood and Violence, F/F, Fic Trade, Fluff, Food, Found Family, Hard Times for our boy, Hurt/Comfort, It'll get fluff I promise, M/M, Midas is a Gaster, Past Rape/Non-con, Past Torture, Rape/Non-con Elements, gratuitous descriptions of food
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-04
Updated: 2020-12-23
Packaged: 2021-03-06 17:28:31
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,576
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26292649
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/freshiewrites/pseuds/freshiewrites
Summary: Midas is a Gaster that's been through the ringer in his own universe, and really he just wishes his soul would give up at this point.Grillby is a flame that is lonely, looking for companionship in a world where everything seems perfect.Throw the two in a stew and see what comes of it.
Relationships: W. D. Gaster/Grillby
Comments: 6
Kudos: 22





	1. I wish, I wish

**Author's Note:**

  * For [LadyPterosaur](https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyPterosaur/gifts).



> this is part of a fic/art trade with Nurse :D its basically a fic with her Gaster Midas being sent across universes to be with Grillby lol cause we're both whores for Grillster XD
> 
> enjoy but mind the tags!!

Every step felt pinprick stabs to the broken pieces of Gaster’s body, his form holding together just enough to keep him from collapsing like a million pieces of bone on the floor just before his own lab. 

He was grateful for the solitude the King had granted (cursed) him with, that none would walk these halls but the Royal Scientist himself. It was more of a punishment than anything, to keep Gaster from seeking help or attention from anyone other than the King himself.

It was… harrowing. To make the journey from the Judgement Hall to the doors of his lab, when his legs trembled beneath him and his hands shook as he pressed one of them, the hole in the palm mocking him as the door lock disengaged, letting him finally into the peace of his own living quarters.

He would never call it a true home. Home was where happiness reigned, where laughter and smiles ran rampant, where you stayed with those you loved.

There was no happiness here, no love other than LOVE. No laughter, no tears of joy. No family. Nothing to help him escape from the cold recesses of his own black thoughts. Nothing to keep him from wishing, over and over, that he would simply cease to exist.

He’d wondered, a few times, why his soul had never given up. After every beating he endured, after each and every time the King had used him, after every tear and broken bone and gained LV… his soul kept on. He was determined to live, even if the reason why eluded him these days. 

Stumbling inside his main sleeping room, Gaster shut and locked the door behind him, a feeble attempt at keeping himself safe when nothing truly ever would. He slid down the wall, falling to his pelvis as he slowly, gingerly began pushing healing magic into his own fractured arm. The arm that the King had taken not more than an hour earlier and squeezed until it broke, ignoring Gaster’s screams for mercy.

He’d looked down on him with such gleeful malice then, such overjoyous murderous glee that it made Gaster sick to think about it now. 

The healing magic began to itch, then to burn as he grit his fangs, the magic always feeling unnatural. For the longest time he’d not been able to use it himself, unallowed. The King had always warned him, threatened him against using it, citing the horrible way the magic felt when it curled around your very soul and squeezed until it burned a hole through your very self.

Then Gaster had nearly died. And of course, the King couldn’t have that, so he’d allowed it… upon the condition that he only ever use it when the King had told him he could. Like a small, weak child being given permission by their caregiver. It made Gaster sick to remember the words.

Today had been such an occasion, seeing as how the Royal Scientist could hardly do his work properly with a broken arm. But now, with his fear mixing in with pain, the magic did in fact feel as though it were trying to burn his bone down to the marrow.

Soon enough it was done, his arm scarred but healed enough he could move it fluidly. 

Tears sprang unwanted to his socket, Gaster angrily wiping them away even as more took their place. He wanted no more of this life, no more of this world, no more of being the King’s plaything. He wanted nothing more than to dust, quietly in this locked room, for the King’s guardsmen to find and struggle to decide who was going to tell the King himself that his Scientist had died.

It made a smile come to his face, thinking about the desperation they would endure, but the thought of one of them meeting his same fate, but so much slower… it made the smile wilt as fast as it had appeared.

Curling up into a ball, laying on the hard floor, Gaster gingerly grabbed a blanket from the edge of his cot and snuggled under it, carefully moving his aching limbs to all be under the ratty thing. It was difficult, getting into a comfortable position, but he managed well enough, using the door as a wall to his back, giving him a bit more comfort than he usually had. 

It was so difficult, so fucking difficult to fall asleep, but the last thought that crossed his mind before he passed out from sheer exhaustion, was to wonder what Asgore would think if he were to actually do something to defy him. What a thought to be had.

~.~

Waking up was difficult, oh so difficult after a beating like he’d had, but something was keeping him from sleeping any longer, making it difficult to open his eyes and look blearily around. There was something wrong, but Gaster couldn’t at all pin down what until he placed a hand on the ground and snatched it back, nearly hissing at the abrupt change in temperature. 

The ground was covered in snow. A few yards away he could see trees, and within the next fork of the path he was laying on, he could see a small hovel of a shack. Squinting with his one good eye, Gaster gently sat up, utterly confused. 

Why in the world was he in Snowdin? There was nothing here, nothing but a backwater village with no one willing to stand up for themselves… which he guessed meant he was in good company. 

Still, it begged the question how he’d ended up in the middle of Snowdin Forest, bleeding out in the snow with the marrow claggy and sticking to his shirt and… he was… bleeding?

The slowly pooling puddle of marrow told him, yes, he was certainly bleeding, but from where he couldn’t tell, only knew that his eyesight was becoming blurry, his limbs locking up and wasn’t that a sign of shock? He used to know that…

He was asleep once more as the pool grew more and more, the sound of dogs howling in the distance the only noise past the gentle falling of snow.


	2. Life Changing

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> wooo some grillby goodness :D
> 
> sorry if these last few updates are lacking, im tired and sick lol
> 
> enjoy tho!!

Grillby had been informed by the Dogs that something strange had happened out in Snowdin Forest, and that was exactly how they’d worded it. “Something strange.”

He was used to strange things, honestly; being a monster meant that strange and curious things happened on the daily. He was but a simple bartender, an old general that was in charge of the Snowdin chapter of the Guard, and what felt like an old man, but he was a bit through with strange occurrences.    
  
He was tired, after the war and settling things down in the Underground and that was the simple and plain truth of it. He was  _ tired _ , and that should have been the end of the discussion, but when the leader of the Dog clan came to him asking for help, for advice, well. The kindness in him wouldn’t let him turn them away.

So he followed, silent and yet crackling in the night air, as they led him down the main path and off a side branch, the Door not far. He wondered if anyone would be there, waiting, listening for monsters to knock curiously.

Ignoring the thought, Grillby followed right up until he caught sight of a body on the ground.

It was clothed in black, but the puddle of blood under it was alarming. He stepped forward, past the concerned but wary Dogi, and knelt into the snow to turn the body over. He had to see if they were alive, or if it was teetering on the edge of dusting, as there was no soul hovering over it just yet.

He saw their face, and for a long moment he felt as if he was going to be sick. They looked broken, so so broken, something about them screaming that they needed help. 

So, he scooped them up into his arms, gently and carefully and yet gently heating them through as much as he was able as he stepped back to carry the skeleton in his arms back to Snowdin.    
  
It was a bit of a longer walk, seeing as how he had more of a load this time through, but he didn’t mind, explaining to the Dogi that followed him to tell the King what had happened, but to wait to come down and see the mysterious stranger that had been bleeding out on the Snowdin paths until Grillby had a chance to see why he was so scarred up… why he seemed so broken.

Stepping into his bar, Grillby locked the door and headed straight for the back, laying the skeleton on his couch as he gingerly started feeding healing magic into him.

He didn’t expect the man to start screaming in pain, in agony, the magic sputtering out as Grillby rocked back, the skeleton moving raggedly to try and get away, one eye opening and a wild, red eyelights looking around maniacally before he finally passed out again out of sheer exhaustion and pain, curled into himself in the most pitiful way.

Grillby took a moment to himself to think about what just happened, and how he was going to deal with it. 

“Guess you’re my guest for a while…” He said, quiet as he stared down at the skeleton who was going to change his life.

**Author's Note:**

> if you enjoyed, consider leaving a comment :D


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